


Can You See?

by Control_Room



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gentle, Illustrated, Kisses, M/M, Sweet, ink demon joey, my art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 14:10:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17788871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Control_Room/pseuds/Control_Room
Summary: Seeing each other is easier than ever.Even if one of them could not see the other.





	Can You See?

“Oh, Henry. My… friend, this is ours. Or was ours. I don’t want to remember the present, so I’ll speak to the past. Henry, you know this, right? This is our achievement, Henry, a mix of yours and mine, together, ours, yours and mine in one marvelous thing,” the recording in his hand spoke. The voice was softer than all the other recordings within the studio of the man’s voice. “Whose is whose, people can ask. Well, Alice is yours, Bendy is mine, Boris and the Butcher Gang are ours, and I shared Bendy with you.”

 

Silence filled the air, but the recording was clearly not done, even if he was just judging by the whistling. Henry shifted, running his hand over the cold metal of the speaker, missing a hot hand that he wanted to be there instead.

 

“You… you did not…” Joey trailed off, his voice constricting on the device. Henry’s heart panged with sadness, knowing what would be the next words. “You did not share Alice with me. I had not even known of her until she aired.”

 

Henry bit his lip, the ignored guilt from years before inkily seeping into him.

 

“And even then, you wanted to make her yours.”

 

More quiet. Henry swallowed roughly, brow creasing.

 

“You made her to hurt me.”

 

So. He knew. Henry knew he did, he just ignored that.

 

“Modelled her after your girlfriend, your wife.”

 

He probably knew the whole time.

 

“I might be almost physically blind, but I could see that.”

 

In the silence of the studio, even the heaviest, most dragging footsteps refused to be heard.

 

“Henry, my amigo, my dear, mi amor… you knew how I felt.”

 

Henry’s cringed shoulders slumped.

 

“You… you did know how I felt… don’t you?”

 

Henry rubbed his forehead, eyes closed tight.

 

“You know how I felt.”

 

The recording clicked to an ending.

 

“How I still do.”

 

He whipped around.

 

Dark, almost black, blue ink dripped down, splattering onto the wall. The horns sharp and teeth stark white on the disembodied head. Glints of both ruddy and pure red showed between droplets of ink, looking at him.

 

He knew that red.

 

He knew that smile.

 

He knew he forced nature to it.

 

Joey did not move from where he stood, in the doorway, still leaving one exit wide open.

 

Henry’s sky blue eyes looked solemnly into those maroon red eyes.

 

So much sadness.

 

He had to do something, if that melancholy gaze remained for a minute longer his heart would burst and rip him to shreds.

 

“Can you even see me?” he asked, a smile twitching his lips, his hurt in his eyes and on his brow. Joey blinked. Henry gestured to his face. “Y’know. Glasses and all. Can you see me?”

 

“Not really,” Johan replied with a humor in his tone. “You’re more of a blob. But I can ‘see’ you using the ink and the cutouts.”

 

“Mmm,” Henry took a step to him. The demonous man took a worrisome step back. “Hey, Joey, stay where you are. Can you see me now?”

 

“No…” Joey’s pie cut irises became enlarged as he squinted. Henry choked on laughter.  Joey jumped in alarm about to approach him, but Henry waved him back to where he was. “What is it? Did I do something wrong?”

 

“You know that thing cats do? When their eyes get really big?” Henry asked, his own eyes slighting in amusement. Johan nodded. “You just did that.”

 

Joey blinked again.

 

“I… I did?” he asked, his own smiling relaxing slightly. Henry nodded, and took another step forward. Joey squinted again, his eyes engorging once more. “I still can’t see you. You grew a beard though. Finally got rid of that stubble, didn’t you?”

 

“Yeah, on your advice, honestly,” Henry grinned as Joey scuffed his foot on the floor, embarrassed. He came another two steps closer, narrowing their divide. “Should have listened to you more often. Diane and I didn’t last. Divorced in, uh… it was thirty seven, a bit after I saw you last. Just seven years. Custody arrangements were hell. Can you see me yet?”

 

“Blurry.” was the one word reply. Henry took another three steps. Joey shook his head, ink droplets gracefully spiking off. Henry came even closer, a distance of two feet separating them. “I can almost see you. Shortie.”

 

“Hey, it’s not my fault your head isn't on your shoulders,” Henry feigned offence, setting down the seeing tool in his hand. He carefully waved the scythe in the space where Joey’s neck should have been, the man turned demon allowing him to do so without a flinch. “Lamppost.”

 

“Strawberry shortcake.”

 

“Insolent string bean.”

 

“Old man.”

 

“Shit code.”

 

“Blond bitch.”

 

“Blue bastard.”

 

“Lab rat.”

 

“Pinkalicious.”

 

“Doctor quack.”

 

“Broke geek.”

 

“Uh…” Joey shrugged one shoulder, a chuckle in his tone behind a stifled grin, more human looking than earlier. Henry smiled and sighed and relaxed. “I got nothing.”

 

“I have something of yours, actually,” Henry admitted to him, reaching into his pocket. Joey tilted his head 120 degrees. Henry frowned at that. “You stop that.”

 

“What, this?” Joey asked, his head going a full 180. Henry stared at him in horror and amusement, his eyes comically wide in his own glasses. Henry stepped over to him and reached up to careful put his head upright. Johan beamed at him. “Aw, c’mon, it’s fun! You should try it!”

 

Henry gestured to his neck. Joey pointed at the scythe.

 

Henry stared for a long while, and then… a chuckle. Joey smiled.

 

“Anyways,” Henry shook his very stable head, reaching back into his pocket. “Here.”

 

A pair of cracked crescent pink glasses were in his hand. Joey’s eyes widened.

 

“Remember that time we got drunk in the studio and you fell down the stairs?” Henry asked. Joey nodded, his claw hand very carefully reaching to him slowly, awed. “You lost your glasses and you were stumbling around blind, and we couldn’t find them when we sobered up. I found them a few days ago.”

 

“Henry…” Joey’s voice was choked up, beaming, but tears cartoonishly in his maroon eyes. “You… you had to have looked for them, I know because I’ve been searching for ages.”

 

“I did,” he admitted. “They were twisted into the floorboards, covered by ink.”

 

“And you got them for…?”

 

“For you, you dumbass.”

 

“Henry!”

 

“Yes, Joey, I looked for them to give them to you,” Henry rolled his eyes. “Now put your head down here so I could put them on for you.”

 

Joey hesitantly did, Henry pushing ink from his forehead, wiping it from his face, putting the pink glasses carefully on Johan’s face. Joey blinked, smiled, and rose his head - or, he tried to pull it back up, at least.

 

Henry’s hands were so gently holding him where he was.

 

One moved to stroke his horns, ink happily lapping around his fingertips, like a joyous puppy when it’s human returned from a long day.

 

“I can see you now, Henry,” Joey nearly whispered, eyes growing sad again. Henry paused. “You can let me go now.”

 

“I don’t want to,” Henry breathed. He pulled Joey’s head closer to his own. Joey pressed his forehead to his. “Can you see me?”

 

“No,” Joey answered. Henry could feel his already hot face heat up. Joey was always so warm…. Joey’s puce eyes glinted and sparked. Henry was sure his were doing the same, glowing with unshed tears. Before Henry could ask why he could not, Johan blinked, and stirred to speak again. “I can only see heaven.”

 

Henry laughed as his tears escaped him, and he wiped off the ones trickling down the other’s cheeks, cheeks which cartoonishly blazed red on his dark skin (when had his skin returned to normal?), such a wonderful color, a color Henry missed so much.

 

They looked long into each other’s eyes, Joey’s hands coming to rest over his.

 

It was gravity pulling them together, a magnetic force neither could resist, breath mingling, hearts beating faster, eyes wideni-

 

Henry pulled back sharply, and he doubled over, bursting into laughter. Joey blinked, before the mortifying realization that he was the reason of the humor.

 

“Hey, stop laughing at me!” Joey whined, blushing madly. Henry only was able to laugh harder. He stamped his foot. “Henry!”

 

“Your eyes, they, they did the thing again,” Henry wheezed through his guffaws. Johan’s lips twitched into a smile. Henry found a soft pressure on his eyes, and he rose his hands to discover Joey’s hands being the ones covering them, quite unsurprisingly. “What’re you doing?”

 

“Can you see me?” Joey asked with facetiousness. Henry smiled. “Well?”

 

“Not really.” Henry mused. Joey’s fingertips fluttered on his eyelids. “Why are you doing this?”

 

“So… so we can… so we can try again?” he offered. Henry’s smile broadened. “I-If you want to, of course!”

 

“Yes,” Henry answered, gently taking Johan’s hands from his face. “Yes.”

 

He cupped Joey’s head again.

 

A heartbeat.

 

They closed their eyes, and the space between them.


End file.
